Regular Guy
by SMACkedHuddy
Summary: Mac has turned into the Regular Guy, and he likes it. Rated T for about 1 sentence of things implied... You know what I mean.


**Everyday guy**

So… I was sitting at the cardiologist's today to wait for my grammy to get a checkup. I had driven her there. However, she hadn't told me that that checkup would take **one and a half hours**. Me having to study for Uni, I was a biiiiiiit ticked off at that. And when I'm ticked off, I get creative. Anyways, I wrote this story on my iPod since I didn't have anything else with me – it's also not beta-ed (Betad? Betaed? βd?). Have fun reading :)

* * *

It's Sunday morning; you are lying in your bed, awake but content just to watch. Patches of golden skin wink at you from spaces in the crumpled white covers and you more than happily wink back.

You like them – a lot. They are proof that she's really here, really lying next to you. Of course that's not the only reason why you like them. You also like the texture of the skin, its fine, barely there blond hairs that you can't even feel when your fingers or any other part of you brushes over them. You like the skin's color, its shining and glinting. Especially in summer just looking at her skin is enough to drive you mad with desire.

The patches start moving under the sheets and you are mesmerized by the green precious gems that are her eyes, just having opened next to you. A sleepy smile covers her face and you can't help but smile back. She throws her right leg over both of yours – it's long and muscular; a dancer's leg although nowadays she's more of a swimmer.

You recall how both of her legs were wrapped around your lower midsection the other night and start grinning like an idiot. _Wow, I'm lucky!_

She doesn't say anything – words are needless right now. Instead she just snuggles closer, making that little not-yet-fully-awake-noise you adore.

You hear a big animal's high-pitched yawning noise from the hallway, a sign that it's your usual time to get up. When she came back from New Orleans, the dog came with her. At first you were really not a fan of his; a constantly shedding mountain of fur that slobbered all over your favorite suit pants on your first meeting. Keeping a dog with her work schedule – impractical and not fair to the animal. What was she thinking? Why couldn't she at least have chosen a smaller one? Bernese Mountain Dogs are not a small race after all and they're not exactly tracking dogs, so what good would he be for the job? But soon you realized the big dog literally has a good nose for which people are guilty and which not, for who likes his masters and who doesn't. He also finds out how to cheer people up within minutes – all factors that made you accept her furry friend, put a BIG dog basket into her office and let him come to work with her. Both you and the dog having the same main goal -making her happy-, you soon forged a close bond, prompting the dog to consider you as much his master as he does her.

You feel her breath against the side of your neck slowing again and nudge her back to full consciousness. You both have to get up; the dog needs to be walked and you also feel hungry.

She rolls out of bed rather than to take one leg at a time -_It's not that I'm not a morning person, I'm just not a "getting out of the warm bed"-person_- and trudges on towards the bathroom while you make your way to the kitchen to start breakfast and feed the dog who was already looking at you expectantly when you opened the bedroom door. Arktos – _bear_. _Quite a fitting name_, you think.

Half an hour later, while you are putting the plates filled with all kinds of goodies you could come up with for breakfast -after all it's your day off- on the table, she pads into the full-grown kitchen you insisted on when you were looking for a new place to live with a pair of dark blue jeans and that tight-fitting bordeaux-colored t-shirt on. Not even for walking the dog she can fully turn off the _Carrie*_ inside and just put on some ratty old clothes.

Said dog gets a copious TLC from her, happily lolling his tongue out and giving you that typical dog grin that smugly says _I'm first, I'm important_.

Your hair in passing, she sits down and gratefully smiles at you for the work you did on breakfast. Since you both came back home from work very late yesterday you didn't eat much then and are hungry now.

You finish breakfast, you continuing to the shower while she stays in the kitchen to clean up and take a look at the paper, the dog sitting next to her fully alert, anticipating his walk. When you have finished your shower both of you get ready for the outside world. As soon as the leash is in her hands Arktos starts bounding through the hallway towards the door and stops there, tail wagging while she puts the leash on his collar. Walking is the only thing he's partial about, he likes it better to be walked by her.

You amble through the park and meet other people with dogs; a small family with a Golden Retriever you know already. In the dog area both dogs play with each other while you and her talk with the Retriever's owners. After a very muddy episode when you tried to put the leash back on Arktos' collar, you continue home. She is laughing at you, telling you that you being with her is the reason why she doesn't **need** to put old clothes on.

You'll see what the day brings; certainly more dog-walking in the evening, lunch and dinner, the usual stuff. Your friends have started to call you _even more boring than before_ because of your now rather standard everyday life, but you like that standard life - a lot. You haven't had regularity in years; it's nice to have it back. And let's face it – when are your lives ever really going to be boring? After all, you're Mac and Stella.

* * *

Sickeningly sweet? Cool? What do you think?

*Carrie = Carrie Bradshaw. You don't know her? I don't know you. Pf… I **love** _Sex and the City_.


End file.
